Running from Shadows
by Vierge
Summary: G1 Sequel to The Lamborghini Extermination Squad. No one knows why Shadowrunner doesn't laugh. A botched retrieval mission to Decepticon Headquarters, however, reveals more than anyone ever expected to know, and not just about Shadowrunner.
1. Part 1

**Running from Shadows**

_By: Vierge_

_A __Transformers: Generation One__ Fan Fiction Piece_

_Featuring: Shadowrunner and Nightraid_

DISCLAIMERS: I don't own _Transformers_; they are the property of HASBRO and Takara, and I'm just borrowing them for the meantime so I can have some fun. I do own Shadowrunner and Nightraid, however, so unless you want the Lamborghini Twins to tear you apart with a little help from Ratchet, Wheeljack, Jazz and Prowl, you will not steal them. I also own Binary, Arclight, Hoverspeed and Undercurrent. Are we clear on that? Good.

NOTES: I know that most of the pieces involving Shadowrunner and Nightraid have been, for the most part, happy and cheerful and generally fun. That's going to change in this piece. It isn't always fun and games when it comes to the Lamborghini Siblings, and based on the title and inferences from previous stories, I think you know just who's getting all the pain this time around.

RATING: PG-13/T

TEASER: It is a well-known fact that Shadowrunner doesn't laugh, but no one knows why. Even Nightraid doesn't quite understand, and is almost afraid to ask. But when a raid the sisters conduct on Decepticon Headquarters goes terribly awry and they come back almost completely slagged, some questions about the sisters are answered – in the most unlikely fashion.

**Running from Shadows**

**Part I**

Two weeks. Sunstreaker had been counting, and it had been _two slagging weeks_. That was far, _far_ too long for them to be away on a mission, not when they were usually back within a week – hell, within a _day_, as was often the case.

But two weeks? That was just ridiculous. Something _had_ to have gone wrong, and Primus damn him if he didn't do anything about it.

He strode into the Command Center then, all but steaming around his head vents. He walked over to where Blaster was plugged into Teletraan-One, and grasped the red Autobot's shoulder in a grip that caused the Communication Officer to actually squawk and turn to look up at him. "Sunstreaker? What the-"

"Have you heard anything from them?" Sunstreaker's tone was deceptively calm and mild, but there was no mistaking the near-white glow of his optics. Sunstreaker was _worried,_ and when he was worried, he got _mad._ Unfortunately for everyone else, Sunstreaker wasn't picky about his targets when he was in this sort of mood.

Blaster sighed and turned away. "Look, I promised I'd tell you minute I heard from them, but I haven't gotten anything from them."

"Then you contact _them,_" Sunstreaker all but growled.

"No can do. Jazz said there wasn't to be any radio contact from our side to them. If there's any calling to be done, it'll be from them, not us."

"Jazz doesn't know _slag_!" Sunstreaker roared. "'Runner and 'Raid have been out there for _two weeks_! I don't care about Jazz's orders or even _Prime's_ orders; I just want to know where the Pit my sisters _are_!"

"Sunstreaker, that is quite enough."

The yellow Lamborghini Countach whirled around, and narrowed his optics at the speaker. "Shut up, Prowl."

The Autobot strategist merely looked at him calmly – something that made Sunstreaker even angrier. "Nightraid and Shadowrunner are soldiers, and very capable ones at that. They will know to call us if they need help. If they do not call, then we will not interfere. I am sure they have their reasons for not contacting us despite the significant delay."

"What if they _can't_ call us, huh? Ever thought of that?" Sunstreaker stalked over to Prowl, and stabbed a finger hard against the Datsun's chest plate. "Or has your spark gone so cold that you don't even _care_ about what happens to them?"

Almost instantly, Prowl's optics flashed a brilliant blue – a sure sign that he was angry. "Do not try my patience, Sunstreaker."

Sunstreaker smirked belligerently. He was spoiling for a fight, if only to work off all this tension, and if Prowl rose to the challenge, well, that was just fine by him too. "Why? Are you gonna make something out of it?"

"Enough, Sunstreaker."

There was no mistaking that voice and the tone of firm command that backed it. Sunstreaker lingered where he stood for a moment, and then backed off just before his standing there might be considered an act of insubordination.

He turned to look at Optimus Prime. "What, are you gonna back him up on this too, Prime?"

"Prowl has a very good point," Optimus stated, and Sunstreaker narrowed his optics at the Autobot Commander. "This is a very serious and dangerous mission. If Shadowrunner and Nightraid need time to prepare, they shall have it. They will take the right opportunity when it is presented to them, and if that opportunity takes two more weeks, then they will wait."

"We don't _have_ time!" Sunstreaker ground out. "For all we know, those 'Cons could've already built the slagging thing even before 'Runner and 'Raid had stolen the blueprints!"

That, so Sunstreaker recalled, was the main reason why his sisters had been sent out in the first place. They'd received reports that the Decepticons were building a new super-weapon, one that would actually _work_ this time, and there was no way the Autobots would allow them to actually build the thing. The command staff discussed how best to get the blueprints and destroy whatever the Decepticons had managed to build of it, and it was decided that the Lamborghini sisters would go – and it would only be just the two of them.

Sunstreaker remembered when he and Sideswipe first heard the news from Nightraid. At first they'd taken it in stride – this was nothing new, and besides, that was the function the sisters were built to perform – but when they heard that the femmes were going at it alone, the Twins had come close to blowing their gaskets. There was no way they'd let their sisters do this alone. Even when they went on raids in the past, the brothers had taken care to shadow them, make sure they were all right. They were never needed, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that they were there _in case_ they were needed.

The idea of sending them to Decepticon Headquarters on their own was something that _did not _agree with either Twin, and they were both very outspoken about it, especially Sideswipe. Sunstreaker remembered how his twin had argued with Prowl and Jazz, but had come up against a steel wall. Even Jazz said there was nothing he could do: this was the best plan all around, and they were going to push through with it.

If there was ever a day that Sunstreaker wanted to pull a mech's spark out through his aft end, it had been that day. He had been completely ready to do it, too, had not Shadowrunner come in and told him, in no uncertain terms, that she and Nightraid were going whether he and Sideswipe liked it or not. That pretty much put an end to the argument, because if Shadowrunner and Nightraid wanted to do this, then they would, whether Sideswipe and Sunstreaker liked it or not.

That had been two weeks ago – two weeks that had felt like vorns to him and Sideswipe. The sisters weren't anything if not efficient, and this delay troubled them both. Although the Twins' connection to their sisters didn't run as deep as the one that they themselves shared, something still nagged at them, troubling them constantly. They couldn't explain how or why, but they knew something was wrong, that this delay was unnatural, and that the femmes were in trouble.

All of a sudden, the alarms went off in the Command Center, indicating a Decepticon incursion. Red Alert was instantly at the console, flicking switches and pressing buttons, while Blaster immediately contacted all mechs who were on watch duty that day. In the meantime, Teletraan-1's primary screen flickered to life, and showed the three Seekers – and Sunstreaker grinned. Finally, something to take his frustrations out on that _wouldn't_ get him sent to the brig!

"Starscream," Prowl muttered with distaste. "Red Alert, do you have any idea why they're here?"

"Any number of reasons," Red Alert replied, calm and composed as he took stock of the situation – as he tended to be during moments of crisis. "Whatever it is though, it's on the ground."

"Get a visual," Optimus ordered. "Starscream and his compatriots wouldn't come all the way here chasing something for no reason."

"Already on it, sir."

"Sir, I've gotten in contact with Sideswipe," Blaster announced then. "He's on patrol duty right now, and he says he's the one closest to where the Seekers are."

Barely a nano-klik had passed since the words had left Blaster's vocalizer than Sunstreaker felt a wave of terror and anger rush over his spark – backwash, he could tell, from Sideswipe's. At that same instant, the primary screen switched to a higher view, showing what it was the Seekers were after.

It showed a gunmetal-blue Gallardo and a matte-black Murcielago. The Murcielago was in the lead, but it looked almost completely slagged, and there was a slight jerk in its movements that indicated one of its tires was flat. The Gallardo didn't look as damaged, but it stayed right behind the Murcielago, weaving back and forth to avoid the null-ray blasts from the Seekers while occasionally touching its front bumper to the back of the other Lamborghini, as if giving it a nudge. Still, it was slow going, and the Seekers were getting more and more aggressive.

But the thing was, the Lamborghinis were not ordinary Lamborghinis: they were Shadowrunner and Nightraid, in their alt-modes, and obviously the former had been to the Pit and back.

It was more than Sunstreaker could take. Already he could feel the rage rising in his spark, fueled by what he was seeing and by the emotions he could feel emanating from his twin. He transformed, and roared out of the Command Center, out of the Ark, racing towards his sisters and his twin, whom he knew for sure was on his way, if not already there.

Hang on, he thought as hard has he could, hoping to Primus that somehow, even if they weren't connected to him like Sideswipe was, his sisters would hear him.

Hang on.

* * *

Deep in the spark of every Cybertronian slumbered a monster waiting for the right reason, the right opportunity, to get out of its cage and wreak havoc upon the world. It didn't matter whether said Cybertronian was Autobot or Decepticon: that monster existed in all of them. All it needed was the right trigger, the right reason, and it would come howling out of its confines.

That monster had just been unleashed in Sideswipe, and the Seekers were going to get the brunt of its anger.

He gunned his engine, the roar satisfying to his audios as he sped over the dust and sand of the desert, homing in on the Decepticon jets. Through the spark connection he shared with Sunstreaker, he could feel his twin's overwhelming rage, one that was filtered through a cold, remorselessly calculating CPU that was already deciding how best to tear the Seekers apart so that they felt prolonged and merciless pain, how best to tear out their sparks so as to offer the best satisfaction and retribution for what they had done to their sisters.

As far as Sideswipe was concerned, he would be more than content with whatever his twin did to them – as long as Sunstreaker saved him some scraps of his own.

As he cleared a rise on the terrain, they came into view: Shadowrunner and Nightraid in their alt-modes, with Shadowrunner looking as if she might fall apart at any minute, trying their best to dodge the null-ray blasts the Seekers were firing at them from above. For a long moment, Sideswipe could do nothing but stare, immobilized by the fear he felt, by the realization that, at any moment, he could lose the family he had only so recently found.

And then that fear blossomed into pure, unadulterated anger in his spark. How _dare_ the Seekers try to destroy what he had found? How _dare_ they try to take away one of the most precious things he had left in the universe?

There was _no way _in the _Pit_ he was going to let them get away with that alive.

With another roar of his engine he started up again, going at full speed down the slope, and then using the increased momentum to hurl himself up into the air as he transformed. He grabbed hold of the first Seeker he could reach, and then pulled the both of them down, the both of them landing hard.

He didn't care which one of the Seekers he had in his grasp, nor did he engage in any preliminary taunting and humiliation. All of that flew out of his processors as he proceeded to pummel his victim, thinking only that the fragging malfunction had been firing at his sisters, who were practically coming to pieces, and someone – _anyone_ – was going to _pay_.

"You."

_Punch_.

"Slagging."

_Crush._

"Piece of."

_Shred._

"Scrap!"

- -'Swipe!- -

He ignored the voice that came through his internal comm. link, assuming that it was just one of the other officers telling him to back off. Well, _frag them_. He wasn't going to listen to them, not now, not when he was going to turn this Seeker into a pile of parts too destroyed to be considered useable.

- -_'Swipe!_- -

The high-pitched shriek made Sideswipe snap to attention, and it took him a moment to realize that it belonged to Nightraid. Cursing himself, he hooked his internal comm. link up with hers. - -'Raid, what is it?- -

- -It's 'Runner,- - Nightraid replied, and there was a hitch in her voice that made Sideswipe's fuel pumps stop working for a moment. - -She's just gone into stasis lock!- -

For a moment, not a single thought process occurred in Sideswipe's CPU, but when they finally started working again, they were working at triple speed. After a brief glance at the Seeker he had been trying to smash to bits, he leaped away, and headed towards Nightraid. He radioed a quick - -Cover us Sunny!- - to his twin, and barely registered the sound of metal crashing against metal as Sunstreaker took over where he had left off.

He had hoped the damage done to Shadowrunner wasn't as bad as he thought it was. He hoped that her going offline was a temporary thing, that it was something she could be shaken out of.

But when he saw how she was, he felt all his hopes scatter and evaporate like smoke.

Somehow, Nightraid had managed to get her sister to transform back to her primary mode, but it only made the injuries more obvious. One of her knee joints looked as if it had been shot all to hell, and a part of her side bore damage from what looked like the edge of a fusion cannon blast.

"Something's wrong with her!" The thread of panic in Nightraid's voice made Sideswipe's spark flicker painfully. He couldn't have his sister coming to pieces, not right now.

He cupped a hand around the back of her neck, and pulled her down to him so that their heads were close together. "Listen to me," he ordered, keeping his voice low and flat so as not to give away any of his emotions. "You _listen_, 'Raid, and listen _good._ You stay here and back up Sunny, okay? Just hold them off while I get 'Runner out of here and back to the Ark."

Nightraid's optics widened with fear at the prospect of being separated from her sister. "B-but I can't-"

"You _can_!" Sideswipe tightened his grip to keep his sister in place, having already sensed the coiling and tension in her limbs in an attempt to break his hold on her. "It's really, really important that you stay here and back up Sunny. I want the two of you to cover me, make sure the Seekers don't get to us. And don't worry; the others ought to be on their way. Can you do that?"

"But 'Runner…"

"I'll take care of her. I'll get her to Ratchet as fast as I can. But I need you and Sunny to cover me for that to work. Can you do that?"

At her small, hesitant nod, Sideswipe gave her a quick reassuring smile and a brief kiss on the cheekplate, and maneuvered Shadowrunner a bit in his arms so that he could carry her easily. As soon as he was certain that he could carry her and run without her slipping out of his grasp, he stood up, and gave Nightraid a nod before he turned, and started running back to the Ark.

* * *

"Ratchet!"

Ratchet looked up from where he had just finished laying out the tools he would need when the others came back with injuries that needed tending to, and watched as Sideswipe came barreling through the door of the Med Bay, an offline Shadowrunner in his arms.

For a brief moment, he succumbed to the wordless panic that flooded from his spark into his processors, but shook it off just as quickly when he remembered that he could save her, that he could fix her. It was bad, he knew, but if he could fix it, then everything would be all right.

"Put her here." He indicated the nearest empty berth. When he saw the damage to her side, he turned and fired off orders at First Aid and Swoop, to bring him everything he would need for fluid transfusions, as well as an assortment of laser scalpels, clamps, and other sundry items for surgery.

"Sweet Primus…"

"What?" Ratchet snapped, as he turned to face First Aid and Swoop, who were tending to the initial injuries that Shadowrunner had sustained. When he saw the look of horror on First Aid's face, he knew that something was wrong – and whatever it was, it was _bad_.

And he knew, right then and there, that he couldn't have Sideswipe in the med bay. He could already tell just how fired up Sideswipe was, and if he found out just how bad his sister's condition was, he'd go right off the deep end. He whirled around again, and gave Sideswipe his firmest glare as he pointed to the door. "Get out."

Sideswipe shook his head and gave Ratchet a look so mulish that had this not been an emergency, the CMO would have decided to just pick him up and _throw_ him out on his aft. "No way. I'm staying with her." He jerked his head to indicate Shadowrunner, who was being hooked up to the fluid transfusions that would give her self-repair systems a moment of reprieve.

"_Get out!_" Ratchet bellowed, the sound backed up by frustration and fear. Fortunately, it had the desired effect. Sideswipe turned, and headed out, the door hissing closed behind him.

Ratchet watched him go with a bit of trepidation. By now he was certain Sunstreaker would sense that something was wrong, and there was a very high chance that the yellow Countach would try to force his way in. With that in mind, he locked the doors, and sent out a message on the shared frequency that if there were any wounded who needed to be brought in, they'd have to tell him first so he could unlock the doors.

- -Huh? Why's that?- - Wheeljack asked over the private comm. link.

- -Because 'Runner was just brought in here, and she's in a really bad ways.- -

- -How bad?- -

- -Not sure yet. Look, just make sure the Twins and 'Raid don't come in here. You know what's going to happen if they come in. Try to distract them or something. And if 'Raid's hurt, you see to her. I need to concentrate on 'Runner.- -

- -… She's gonna be okay, right?- - The worry was clear in Wheeljack's voice, echoing a similar sentiment in Ratchet's spark.

- -I hope she is.- - With that, Ratchet cut the link.

When the femmes had first gotten their alt-modes, he and Wheeljack had made an agreement to make sure that the femmes stayed safe and happy: essentially, taking on what the role of their creator would have been. This was because the creator of the sisters – and of the Twins – was their old mentor, Matchlock. They felt that they owed it to their mentor to look after his creations, and since the Twins had proved long ago they didn't need much looking after, the both of them had decided to look after the femmes instead.

Though they never said it out loud, the two of them each had their favorites. Wheeljack was fondest of Nightraid, mostly because her cheery and optimistic nature was pretty much an echo of the Senior Engineer's own personality. It also helped that Nightraid was a bit of a tinkerer, and didn't mind working with Wheeljack in his lab when she didn't have any other pressing duties.

Ratchet, on the other hand, had taken easiest to Shadowrunner: her maturity in comparison to her siblings' immaturity (and ever since Nightraid had taken after her brothers in their pranks, Ratchet counted her in that estimation) was refreshing to him, as was her quiet thoughtfulness in all the things she did. It was easy to simply sit with her, and not say a word at all – something Ratchet found very relaxing.

And now he had Shadowrunner on his table, and while he thought it was simply the wound to her side and various dings, scratches, and dents, he slowly realized that much of the damage was actually internal – and far graver than he initially thought.

"This internal damage… She can't have gotten this from a fight." First Aid's voice was steady, but Ratchet could easily hear the horror underlying the words.

Swoop was staring at Shadowrunner's bared internals. "Look like she Shadowrunner dis-"

"Swoop, get the small laser scalpel," Ratchet ordered, cutting through Swoop's words before the Dinobot could continue with the thought. What Swoop had been about to say was the only answer as to why Shadowrunner's internals were so damaged, but at the same time it wasn't a possibility he liked to consider. He knew Hook was a sadist, but this… It was beyond anything that Ratchet could have imagined him capable of.

"Boss?"

Ratchet looked up at First Aid, who was looking back at him, concerned. In response, he shook his head, dismissing whatever question the Protectobot might have had, and took the scalpel that Swoop held out for him. He dived straight into his work, putting everything else out of his mind. He tried to think of each injury individually, and not of the damage as a whole. If he thought of it that way, he felt he might go crazy – or march straight into Decepticon Headquarters and tear Hook apart. He couldn't afford to do either.

"…chet…"

Ratchet turned his head so fast at the sound of that weak, feeble voice. He smiled back at Shadowrunner, trying to be as reassuring as possible. He wondered if she could actually see him; her optics were so dim that they might as well have been completely out. "You're going to be fine," he said, and as he did so he felt as if he were trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince her. "Sideswipe got you here just in time."

Shadowrunner's optics brightened up a little. "Take…memory banks. Give…data…right away."

"No." He cut one of her sensor arrays in her side, noting how she twitched at that, but it was for the best. That way he could repair her without causing any undue pain. "That can wait."

"Can't." Her optics were flickering again, dulling out as she fought against her overtaxed system's urges to go into stasis lock. "It's important… Prime has to…know…" And then her optics went out completely, stasis lock winning out yet again.

For a while, there was nothing but the sound of them working, and Ratchet was more than glad to ignore Shadowrunner's request. The removal of a Cybertronian's memory banks wasn't an overly difficult task for someone who was trained to do it; he was sure that even Swoop could manage such a removal admirably. The only reason why he didn't want to do it was because of the implication. The removal of a Cybertronian's memory banks was only done when the Cybertronian in question was on the verge of death, or already dead.

Or, if you were like Perceptor, very, very stupid.

Ratchet didn't want to think of Shadowrunner in either of those conditions.

- -Ratchet?- -

Great, he thought wryly, recognizing the voice that came in over his personal frequency. - -She's going to be okay, 'Raid,- - he replied, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

- -But why'd you send 'Swipe out?- -

- -I can't work with him in here.- -

- -Okay… But Ratchet? We need 'Runner's memory banks.- -

Ratchet froze just before making a cut, finding it disturbing that Nightraid should ask for it when Shadowrunner had just done the same only moments ago. - -Why?- -

- We need it. 'Runner told me before we started that if something happened to her, I was supposed to get her memory banks so it could be shown to Prime right away.- -

Ratchet paused in his work, gazing down at femme Shadowrunner's face. - -… Is it really that important?- -

- -Yes.- -

Nightraid sounded tired, and obviously was sick with worry. He sighed, making both Swoop and First Aid look up at him, though their hands didn't stop doing their work. - -All right. I'll send Swoop over with it right away.- -

At last, some small measure of relief made its way into Nightraid's voice. - -Thanks. I'll be at the Command Center with everyone else.- - And with that, there was a brief crackle as the line was cut, and it was silent once again.

Ratchet stood still for a while, letting Nightraid's request sink in. She wouldn't have asked for this unless it was important. He was reminded of the fact that they were at war, they were all soldiers, and when soldiers had orders, they carried them out.

"Swoop, take 'Runner's memory banks and bring them to 'Raid. She's at the Command Center."

Swoop and First Aid looked up at him, then at each other, before Swoop stepped back, and did as he was told. He removed Shadowrunner's memory banks – really nothing more than a set of chips – and stepped out of the Med Bay. As he did so, Ratchet was relieved to note that there was no one in the hallway – at least, not _yet._

Silence settled again in the wake of the door closing, but it only lasted a few nano-kliks, because First Aid asked: "What are you going to tell the Lambos later, when they ask what was wrong with 'Runner?"

"I'll tell them precisely what was wrong with her – but not until we've fixed her."

Ratchet sensed First Aid looking at him thoughtfully, but at length that invisible pressure that came along with being stared faded away, and Ratchet knew that – for now, at least – any questions that First Aid might have had were set aside in favor of the work in front of them.

* * *

Sunstreaker was worried. "Are you sure that Ratchet said he'd be able to fix her?"

Nightraid nodded. Although it was good news, she still couldn't help but feel worried. She would have preferred to be in the Med Bay with her, but she knew she couldn't be there. Ratchet had sounded more terse than usual, and she didn't care to try his patience right then.

Also, she didn't know if she could bear to see her sister on one of Ratchet's berths. Certainly, they had been injured before, both back on Cybertron and here on Earth, but this time around, things were different.

Someone nudged her side, and she glanced over at Sideswipe, who was giving her a concerned look. "Are you sure you're alright?"

She managed a small smile back at him. "Yeah, I am. Nothing that Wheeljack couldn't fix himself, or that my systems can't handle later. 'Runner…" She stopped herself from continuing when she saw Sideswipe's optics darken in anger.

"Sunny was telling them that they ought to call you," he muttered, his voice low and angry. "But _no_. They said that we couldn't."

"Because you really weren't supposed to," Nightraid said softly. "We had to do this alone."

"Yeah, and look where _that_ got 'Runner."

"And if you tried that, we could've gotten killed." Nightraid glared at her brother, who stared at her as if he hadn't expected her to give him that answer. "It was a really tight situation, 'Swipe. If you had called, we would've been in even bigger trouble, and 'Runner…" She shook her head, not allowing her thought processes to go that far. Things were bad enough as they were. There was no need to imagine the worst-case scenario.

They were here now in the Ark, and they were _safe._ Nothing and no one could harm them here. And 'Runner was in the Med Bay, getting treatment from Ratchet. She would be alright. She _had _to be alright.

The doors to the Command Center opened with a pneumatic hiss, and when Nightraid looked up she saw Swoop coming over, carrying something very carefully in his hands.

But before he could reach her, Sunstreaker was already in front of him, practically blocking the Dinobot's way. "Is she okay?"

Swoop quickly sidestepped out of Sunstreaker's way. "Him Ratchet and him First Aid fixing her Shadowrunner. But me Swoop give this to her Nightraid. Him Ratchet's orders."

Nightraid stepped up, moving expertly so that she got in Sunstreaker's way. "Thanks Swoop," she murmured, smiling kindly as she accepted Shadowrunner's memory banks. "Please tell Ratchet to contact us as soon as 'Runner's okay."

"Me Swoop will tell him Ratchet." The Dinobot offered her a small, sympathetic smile, before he turned and left, most likely to go back to the Med Bay.

"Are those 'Runner's memory banks?"

Nightraid turned, and placed a hand immediately on Sideswipe's arm. She knew the implications of requesting for a Cybertronian's memory banks, which would explain the sudden fear in her older brother's voice. "It's okay. Ratchet said she's going to be fine, and I believe him. It's just… This is policy between me and 'Runner. If the one with the information's been injured so badly that she can't make a report right away, we're to take her memory banks and load them so that we can get the information without any delay."

"Don't tell me you've done this before," Sunstreaker muttered, glaring down at Nightraid. "I'm no medic, but you'd have to be an idiot with a half-powered processor if you think taking out a Cybertronian's memory banks is _safe._"

"I _know_ that!" Nightraid snapped. "And yes, we've done it once before. I was so slagged after a run-in with some of Shockwave's troops, but I'd gotten really important information on the location of Shockwave's energon caches. We needed that information, so 'Runner asked Arclight, our medic, to take out my memory banks so she could give the data to Chromia and Elita-One. And I'm _fine,_ aren't I?"

"Have ya got 'em, 'Raid?"

Nightraid turned, and nodded at Jazz. "Here they are." Carefully, she placed the metal chips onto Jazz's hand, who handled them with equal care as he brought them over to Wheeljack. The Lancia then carefully fitted the chips into a reader specially designed to allow Teletraan-One to read the information directly from the chips, and as soon as he put the reader into the designated slot on the console, the data appeared on the main screen.

There was a brief silence, and then Wheeljack turned to Nightraid, looking rather sheepish. "Uh, 'Raid? Something you wanna tell us about this?"

Nightraid looked, and realized that what should have been an arrangement of files and data was instead replaced by what looked like gibberish. Well, it wasn't _really_ gibberish.

It was code.

"Oh! Sorry, I forgot to mention that." Nightraid headed over to the console, and started running a decryption program that she downloaded into Teletraan-1 by means of a finger jack. She smiled apologetically at everyone in the Command Center. "It was an extra precaution those of us who were left on Cybertron took. If we felt that there would be a chance our memory banks might fall into enemy hands, we'd automatically run an encryption program that would encode all of the data in our memory banks so that even if the 'Cons managed to get hold of them intact, they'd have a really hard time trying to decipher it. If we survived, then we'd run our own decryption programs to unlock all the data, but if we didn't, well… At least it'd take a while for the 'Cons to figure it all out. We'd change the code every deca-cycle, although…" She paused, frowning at how long it was taking her decryption program to crack the code, "I get the feeling 'Runner actually played around with it in her spare time…"

"Who created the code?" Wheeljack asked curiously, watching the decryption program at work. "And how come you're able to decrypt it if this is technically 'Runner's code?"

"It was Ultra Magnus' idea, actually, but it was Binary, our chief programmer, who came up with the basic algorithm. She made it so that all codes are based around one core algorithm, but we elaborate on it individually so that we each develop our own codes. Still, since the core algorithm is the same, we can decrypt each other's codes if we have to."

"It's a very good idea, but a little flawed from a security standpoint," Red Alert remarked. "If it's as you say and all the codes are based around one algorithm, then if the 'Cons find out about it the whole thing would be moot, and-"

A soft beeping sound from Teletraan-1 stopped Red Alert from proceeding, indicating that the decryption program had done its job. Nightraid narrowed her optics at the array of data on the screen, and homed-in on one particular set of files.

The data in a Cybertronian's memory banks was arranged and archived in a way that was unique to the individual, so sifting through the data was often a very time-consuming task. In order to expedite the process, those who were closest to the individual were the ones requested to accomplish the task of arranging and processing that data.

Nightraid had to admit that, while it was a rather painful thing to ask of someone who had lost a friend or a lover, it was also the most efficient way. It was usually assumed that closeness between two individuals gave them the opportunity to find out how the other "thought," which in turn would allow them to untangle the file systems faster. As far as Nightraid knew, it had worked: Shadowrunner had gotten the information out faster than anyone could have from that Shockwave incident, and had saved all of them quite a bit of trouble in doing so.

However, she was also aware of the sadder side of it. She remembered how difficult it had been for Binary to sift through the memory banks of her bond Hoverspeed, who had been on a courier mission for Ultra Magnus before he'd met an unfortunate end thanks to Shockwave's drones. Although the bond between her and Hoverspeed had allowed Binary to arrange the data with an almost intuitive speed, everyone knew it had caused her a great deal of spark-ache.

It didn't take long for Nightraid to find the file that she suspected contained the data she needed. There was another file that caught her eye, since it was pretty old and heavily encoded. Knowing that now wasn't the time and place for it, she simply copied it to her own processors and opened the other file – which turned out to be exactly the one they needed.

"It seems she did get all the information we needed," Prowl remarked, optics scanning the blueprints that were brought up onscreen. "Wheeljack, do you think you can work with these?"

"Yup," the Senior Engineer nodded in agreement. "I don't really like 'em much, but the Constructicons certainly knew what they were doin' when they came up with this. At least now that we know what they had in store for us, we can figure out how to fight back in case Megatron decides to use this."

"That's very good," Optimus Prime said then, and when Nightraid turned around she saw the Autobot Commander gazing at her with a warm look in his optics. "You and your sister did a very good job, Nightraid. Please inform me when Ratchet has her back online, all right? Since I plan to debrief you and 'Runner at the same time, you are excused from your other duties."

"Yes sir, and thank you," Nightraid replied with a nod and a grateful smile.

"That will be all, then. Prowl, tell Ratchet to send Swoop to get Shadowrunner's memory banks. Wheeljack, when you come up with an appropriate plan for dealing with this, come and see me in my quarters. Until then, everyone's dismissed."

As everyone except those assigned to do work in the Command Center started shuffling out, Bluestreak came up to her then, a sympathetic smile on his face. "Are you okay, 'Raid? You're not hurt, are you? I mean, I didn't see you going into the Med Bay when you came back so that means you're not hurt, right?"

Nightraid giggled. Count on Bluestreak to make her smile just by talking to her. "Yeah Blue, I'm fine."

"Oh! Well, that's good." Bluestreak's expression brightened immediately. "Say, why don't we go to the Rec Room? Mirage is there and he's been fiddling around with his rifle – remember what he told us before you and 'Runner left? – well he's finished it, and now he wants to test it out. But we wanted you to be around, and now that you are…"

Nightraid shook her head as Bluestreak continued to babble, but she followed him to the Rec Room nevertheless.

That file she'd copied from Shadowrunner's memory banks was still nagging at her, but she put it out of her CPU for the meantime. There would be time to look at it later.

* * *

He paced the hall in front of the Med Bay, certain that he was wearing a rut into the Ark's flooring. Not that he really cared right now; he simply had too much on his CPU, and too much worry in his spark, to do anything else. Every now and then he'd stop and stare at the door, hoping that through some miracle or other someone would come out and tell him that she was okay, and that he could go and see her.

"It's not your fault, Jazz."

Jazz stopped, and chuckled wryly, already recognizing the voice that spoke from the other end of the hall. "Can't help but blame myself, even just a li'l bit." He leaned against the wall. "I was th' one who suggested they go, an' I was the one who said we couldn't contact them 'less they contacted us."

Prowl walked over to stand next to him. "It was a tactical decision, and a sound one, as far as we could have foreseen."

"Not gonna ease my conscience, ol' buddy. And it ain't gonna stop the Twins from slaggin' me later once 'Runner's okay." The Twins had both been sent out on patrol duty by Prime. It was better to keep them out of the Ark where they might take their anger and impatience out on something – or _someone_.

"If she lets them do that. You at least have that one advantage."

But he – the both of them – knew that getting slagged by the Twins was really the least of Jazz's worries. It ran deeper than that, and far closer to the spark.

Prowl's voice, when he asked the question was almost tentative. "You haven't…bonded with her yet, have you?"

Jazz shook his head. "Didn't think it was the right time. Don't think it'll _ever _be the right time." He raised his head to look at his best friend. "I just… I dunno. Sometimes I think it might've been better if we were bonded, so I'd know if anything went wrong with her, but at the same time… I keep thinkin', it might be better when the war's _over_, y'know? Nothin' to keep us apart, and not havin' to worry about whether one of us is goin' to just disappear. Can't hurt her that way. Don't _wanna_ hurt her that way."

Prowl remained silent, simply looking back at him, and Jazz could see the concern and understanding in his optics. They both knew what they were risking when they sent the femmes out on their mission, and Prowl knew it could just as easily have been Nightraid in her sister's place, or it could have even been the both of them in there.

But they also understood what they were, who they were. They were all soldiers, devoted to the advancement of the Autobot cause, and they would do whatever their duty called upon them to do – even if it meant getting killed for the cause.

Still, Jazz thought, it didn't mean any of them had to like it.

A long time ago, Jazz knew that he could answer the question "Would you willingly die for your cause?" with all the sincerity in his spark. He would do anything, even give up his own life, if it meant that his death would further the Autobot cause. But ever since Shadowrunner came into his life, the answer to that question had changed somewhat. Certainly, he would do anything he could to end this war in their favor, but when it got to the "dying" part, he hesitated.

Primus, he thought, call him selfish, but he couldn't bear to take leave of this life just yet if it meant leaving Shadowrunner behind.

"Ya think Prime and Ironhide ever feel like this?" he asked softly. "It's gotta be worse for 'em. I mean, they're bonded an' all…"

"I don't know." The Datsun remained silent for a while, before putting a hand on Jazz's shoulder. "Let's go to the Rec Room." His lips curled in a slightly wry smile: a reminder that yes, Prowl did indeed have a sense of humor – if one chose to look for it, or was close enough to him to know about. "You could burn out your optics staring at the door, but it won't open unless Ratchet or Primus himself does so."

Jazz laughed then, and followed Prowl towards the Rec Room, falling in step beside his best friend as they walked. He was about to ask if any progress had been made on a possible countermeasure against Megatron's latest super-weapon, but stopped when Prowl suddenly flinched.

Jazz frowned as he reached over to steady the 2IC. "Hey, what is it?"

This time, he didn't get an answer, because the next thing he knew, Prowl was hurrying down the hallway, taking the shortest path possible, not to the Rec Room or the Command Center, but to Nightraid and Shadowrunner's quarters.

With absolutely no idea as to what was going on, Jazz decided that it was in his best interests to follow him – and find out just what the Pit was going on.

* * *

REFERENCES:

The bit about Perceptor being very stupid, which in turn is tied to Ratchet's thoughts about the removal of memory banks, is a reference to one of Tanaigre's story titled "Science in Progress," written for Lonegamer7, wherein Wheeljack, Skyfire and Perceptor get into quite a bit of trouble while Prime, Prowl, and Ratchet are away – all in the name of science, of course. _How_ those memory banks operate, though, is something I made up. The Swoop-as-medic idea may be credited to NightyIcons.

Oh, and about that whole mess regarding codes and whatnot, if it's not in any way possible for such an idea to exist, please chalk it up to artistic license on my part. I figured even if we humans couldn't figure out something like that, then I'm certain Cybertronians could.


	2. Part 2

**Running from Shadows **

**Part II**

Prowl moved quickly and steadily through the hallways, ignoring any passing Autobots, and instead focusing on making a beeline towards the source of the high-pitched, anger-filled wail that had only moments before flooded his audios over his private comm. link and caused him to flinch.

At last, he reached the quarters he had meant to arrive at, and as soon as he opened the door he was greeted by a scene that he knew would trouble him for a while to come.

Nightraid was standing in the middle of the quarters she shared with Shadowrunner – or what was left of it, given how several items and consoles were now either lying on the floor or smashed to pieces. Nightraid herself practically vibrated with the strength of her emotions, and her optics were a brilliant light blue, almost white: a clear indication of the anger that was coursing through her.

"'Raid?" he asked softly, tentatively stepping into the room, making sure to avoid what used to be a pile of data pads. "What's the matter?"

She looked up at him, and it seemed as if she was blind, not seeing him at all in her rage and pain. Taking a gamble, he reached out, and gently placed a hand on her forearm. "'Raid, it's me."

Her optics flickered a little, and the white-blue heat gradually faded, only to be replaced by dark blue anguish. Her entire body seemed to hitch a bit, and then she reached out to him, pressing herself against him and hiding her face against his chest plate.

"Prowl- Holy Primus!"

Prowl looked up, and saw Jazz staring at the destruction of the femmes' quarters, before the Special Ops Commander's optics settled on him and the sobbing femme in his arms.

- -Let me handle this,- - Prowl told him over Jazz's private comm. line.

- -But what _happened_?- -

- -When I find out, I'll tell you. But please Jazz, for the love of Primus, let me handle this.- -

Jazz stood there for a while, looking at him, but then he nodded, and backed off, closing the door as he did so.

Alone now with Nightraid, Prowl was free to focus his attentions on her. "'Raid?" he queried softly as he put his arms around her. "What happened?"

Nightraid hitched again – the Cybertronian equivalent to a hiccup – and when she spoke her voice came out of her vocalizer sounding strangled. "I remember."

Prowl frowned. "Remember what?"

"How Matchlock… How Matchlock died."

The Datsun pulled away from the Gallardo slightly, just enough so that he could look down at her face. "You mean you forgot?" Prowl was well-aware of the phenomenon: a Cybertronian could lock down any of their memories so that they would not have to think about them, or so they would not come back to haunt them while they were in recharge. Often such a thing was done deliberately, but there were times, especially when the memories were traumatic, that a Cybertronian's CPU simply shut those memories away unconsciously. The only way to bring unconsciously-locked memories back was to have a medic unlock the pertinent files in the memory banks – or to have something trigger them to unlock.

Nightraid shook her head hard in response to his question. "No. 'Runner _made_ me forget."

Prowl frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Nightraid lifted her hand, and listlessly pointed to the only console that was still intact. Not knowing what else to do, or what else to ask, Prowl moved towards it, and loaded the memory-file.

_The outskirts of Iacon were desolate, though once upon a time they had been thriving, filled with life._

It was as if he was looking through someone else's optics.

"_Do you think we lost the patrols?"_

He heard Nightraid's voice, but it sounded younger than it did now.

"_I think so. I do not see any sign of them here."_

And that was unmistakably Shadowrunner's voice, but despite the seriousness underscoring the words, the sound had none of the weight that he had come to associate with it.

"_That's good. Matchlock's a really smart mech, but I don't think he'd stand a chance against Shockwave's troops."_

And then Prowl realized: he was viewing a memory-file – _Shadowrunner's_ memory-file. What he was seeing now was a replay of one of Shadowrunner's memories.

"_Well, considering that his house is practically a ticking time bomb just waiting for something to light the fuse, I suppose it would do them good to stay away if they don't want themselves blown up to smithereens."_

Laughter this time, one that he recognized as Nightraid's, but the other one was different. And then he realized, with a start, it was Shadowrunner's laughter – the laugh that none of them had ever heard her do.

_They were approaching what appeared to be a barely-standing building, but when they opened the door it wasn't as run-down as it looked on the outside. Tools and odds and ends of various parts and materials lay scattered on the floor, though there was a narrow path through everything, only barely wide enough for one mech. _

_And then there was a tiny sound: the sound of something cracking, and then collapsing, falling apart._

_Shadowrunner stopped, as if sensing something._

"'_Runner?" Nightraid queried from behind her sister. "What is it?" Her voice became light, teasing. "Did Matchlock leave a crate or something out there again?"_

_And then it was all a blur of movement, as Shadowrunner ran ahead, leaping over obstacles or swerving away from them, only to stop at a room deeper inside the building._

Prowl watched as one of Shockwave's drones stabbed its arm through an unidentified mech, spark energy briefly flaring out in tiny little flecks of light, before fading away. The drone dropped the mech onto the ground with a sickening thud.

For a few brief moments, there was nothing: no sound, no movement, nothing.

_And then there was a flash of red, and movement and sound exploded together all at once. There was a roar, and it was Shadowrunner herself roaring as she hurled herself at the drones, tearing them apart, piece by piece, shredding them with a ferocity so unlike the femme who, only moments earlier, had seemed cheerful enough to laugh._

_All of that was gone now, dissolved in a rage that seemed to know no bounds. _

_And then all was still again, with nothing left of the drones but pieces of scrap too destroyed to be useable._

"'_Runner?"_

_The world spun again, and this time it focused on Nightraid, her optics wide, her horror clear on her face. And then Shadowrunner looked at her hands, and they were stained with energon and fluids from the drones. She touched her face, and when her fingertips came away, they were also coated in fluids._

_She looked up again at Nightraid, who still stood there, seemingly frozen. And then Shadowrunner moved, and embraced Nightraid._

"_I'm sorry," she murmured, and reached up to the back of Nightraid's head with her hand, the tiny needle she used to knock her victims out emerging from one fingertip. With one lightning-quick motion, she stabbed the needle into a cable in Nightraid's neck._

"She knocked me out, and then she force-locked the memory of me seeing her kill those drones."

Prowl turned away from the console – the file was beginning to loop anyway – and looked at Nightraid. She still had the same dull optics, the same weary stance. She raised her head slightly took at him, and he went to her immediately, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to his chest-plate. He did not say anything, merely allowed his presence to soothe her.

"She didn't have to do that," Nightraid stated, and Prowl could sense her temper building up as she pushed away from him again. "Primus, what did she think I _was_?! Weak?! I could have handled it! I could have handled anything she threw at me!"

"Maybe she thought you were still too young," Prowl reasoned, trying to keep his voice even. He and Shadowrunner were good friends, and he could understand why she did what she had done, even if he did not agree with it.

"It doesn't _matter_!" Nightraid cried. "We were fighting 'Cons together even way before any of _that_ happened! She _knows _I can handle it! It's not as if I couldn't bear to see her like that!"

"She had her reasons."

"They're the wrong ones!"

"If you could handle it, then you would not have done this." Here Prowl gestured to the ruins of the room around them.

Nightraid seemed to jerk at that, and then her optics went dull again as she slid down to the floor. "It's just… It isn't _fair._ I'm her _sister_ for Primus' sake! She shouldn't have to keep secrets from _me_!"

There was still anger in her voice, but it was dulled now, like her optics, and instead there was more of frustration there, and confusion. She needed to know why Shadowrunner had done what she did, and although Prowl had his own theories regarding that, he felt it was wiser to simply let Shadowrunner do the explaining.

In the end, he simply crossed the room over to her, and took her in his arms again, willing the rest of the world to leave them both alone for this one time.

* * *

Pain. It was the only thing that convinced her she was still alive, along with the fact that she was staring at a somewhat-familiar ceiling when she turned on her optics. 

"Oh! You Shadowrunner online now?"

She allowed herself a small smile at that familiar voice. "If feeling pain means I'm online, then yes I am, Swoop."

The Dinobot's face appeared in her line of sight then, and he peered down at her intently, before smiling back at her. "Me Swoop go get him Ratchet."

As she watched him head off to another part of the Med Bay, she shut her optics down again, her thoughts trailing back to what had happened during the mission. It had been a close shave, as the humans liked to say, but she had managed to make it out alright.

Relatively speaking.

She heard the doors hiss open again; she smiled when she heard the sound of familiar footsteps heading her way.

In moments, Ratchet's face appeared over her head, looking slightly grumpy, but there was a gleam of relief in his optics. "Online and ticking?"

"Online and ticking." She winced when she shifted slightly. "Though still in a great deal of pain…"

Ratchet nodded, and started fiddling with something in her internals. "Well, you'd be in a great deal more pain if I hadn't cut some of these sensory cables here."

She flickered her optics in surprise. "So I'm not entirely fixed yet?"

"Given this kind of damage? No. I was planning to have Spike go tunnel-ratting, but I wanted to make sure you were online before we had him do that." Ratchet looked at her then. "What happened?"

Shadowrunner got the distinct feeling that there was no way she could simply brush this off. Ratchet was likely to leave her the way she was – in pieces – if she didn't tell him the truth. Moreover, how could she even begin to hide the truth from Ratchet, when he had already seen the truth for himself in the damage that had been done?

"Well?" the CMO prompted.

She shut her optics again, not wanting to see Ratchet's expression when she told him. "I got caught. They have Undercurrent with them now, and she must have seen me sneaking in."

"Undercurrent?"

"She's a Decepticon femme. 'Raid and I were familiar with her on Cybertron. She ran reconnaissance missions for Shockwave."

"Alright, so you were spotted, and you got caught. What happened next?"

"They handed me over to Hook." She didn't need to continue for Ratchet to know what it was Hook would have done to her.

"Do you know why?"

"Matchlock's stealth system."

"Slag it," Ratchet muttered, and Shadowrunner knew, although it had been a quiet curse, there was great deal of venom behind it. "How much did he find out?"

"I'm…I'm not sure."

"Forced you into stasis lock, then." Silence. "How'd you get out?"

"I came out of stasis sooner than he thought. I contacted 'Raid and she snuck in to get me out. We would have made it out fine, but Soundwave caught us and sent the Seekers after us."

"… And that's why you came back here with the Seekers on your aft."

"Yeah."

Silence again, with nothing but the sound of Ratchet doing his work.

"'Runner?"

She looked up at him inquiringly, and he gave her a small smile: a smile of relief, of gladness. "I'm glad you're back."

"Thank you, Ratchet." She returned his smile as best as she could. "I'm glad to be home, too."

* * *

"… Any word yet from Ratchet?" 

Sideswipe resisted the urge to kick his twin soundly in the back of the head. "No, nothing yet. And that's the fifth time in ten minutes you've asked that question."

Sunstreaker huffed. "So sue me. I feel worried about her, okay?" He went quiet, leaning back against the rock face behind him to look up at slowly-lightening sky. "You think the Seekers did all that to her?"

"I don't know, okay?" Sideswipe gave the golden-yellow Lamborghini a scathing look. "And honestly? I don't want to think about it right now. I'm just glad they're both back here, and they're both safe."

"What about 'Runner?"

"The Hatchet'll fix her. He always does."

Sunstreaker fell silent again, staring at the dark world around them. A new day was dawning even as they sat there, ostensibly on watch, but in spite of that, they were both restless. They still had no word regarding Shadowrunner, and both Twins were determined not to have a single bit of recharge until they heard.

"You know where 'Raid is?"

Sideswipe looked up at the heavens in a silent "thank you" to Primus, before answering: "She's inside with Prowl."

Sunstreaker slanted him a look. "You serious?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "Look, we got to face facts, Sunny: 'Raid's seeing Prowl, okay? Nothing we can do about that, unless we want 'Raid coming down on us with the wrath of Primus."

Sunstreaker snorted. "Or Wheeljack, for that matter."

Sideswipe grinned at the memory. When Nightraid first told them that she had taken a liking to Prowl, it had ticked both Twins off – _big time._ Jazz with Shadowrunner was one thing, since Jazz was pretty cool, as far as they were concerned, and though they gave him a hard time at first, they eventually let him be. But Prowl? That was an _entirely_ different thing.

They'd given Prowl a hard time of it – harder than what they had given Jazz. Sure, they'd kicked Jazz's aft a couple of times until Shadowrunner had told them off, but it hadn't simply stopped there when it came to Prowl. They tried to make it a living _hell_ for him, since while the Twins were convinced there was a mech out there who was just right for their baby sister; they were also thoroughly convinced that it was _not_ Prowl.

And so, between Decepticon attacks, trouble reigned supreme in the Ark, with the Twins devising scheme after scheme to tell Prowl, in no uncertain terms, that they were not going to allow him anywhere nearer Nightraid than he had to be. The Twins were so thoroughly convinced they were right, that not even Ratchet or Prime could get them to change their minds.

That was, of course, until Wheeljack lost his temper.

"Y'know, I still can't believe that Wheeljack had it in him," Sunstreaker remarked. "I can understand him asking the Dinobots to beat the slag out of us, but to do it himself…"

Sideswipe winced slightly at the memory. They knew that Ratchet and Wheeljack had an agreement of sorts regarding their sisters, but neither he nor Sunstreaker had known what it was until the Dinobots dragged them over to Wheeljack, who in turn proved to the Twins, in no uncertain terms, that while he might have been perceived as the Autobots' cheerful and optimistic Senior Engineer, there was a reason why he was allowed to go onto the battlefield – and _not_ only because he was the only one with enough courage to tote around and use his latest "toys."

When Wheeljack finally told Grimlock to deliver the Twins into the "tender mercies" of Ratchet, the Twins had learned two things: first, that Nightraid could have anyone she wanted, and if it was Prowl, then all the better, since Prowl was the least likely to hurt Nightraid – not when he felt the same way for her. And second, that Wheeljack had an _unholy_ temper when he was angry.

Sideswipe's comm. link crackled then, and he sat bolt-upright when he heard Ratchet's voice on the other end. "Sides, you and your brother get your afts to the Med Bay now. 'Runner's online."

"She's okay?" Sideswipe demanded, immediately calling Sunstreaker's attention.

"So far. There's still a lot to be done, but I need Spike to do that for me." A pause, and then: "Just get your afts here already. Your sister's been asking for you."

Sideswipe didn't have to say anything. As soon as Ratchet cut the line, the two of them stood up and started running towards the Ark, transforming into their alt-modes halfway there. They revved their engines and picked up speed, swerving to avoid the footsteps of other mechs in the hallways, only to transform back into their primary modes as soon as they drove into the Med Bay.

"Hey there."

Sideswipe grinned broadly when he saw Shadowrunner – online and smiling at that. "Hey yourself." He walked over, ignoring the fact that her chassis was still open and her internal systems were still exposed. "Feeling better?"

The wry smile Shadowrunner flashed at him gave him more comfort than anything Ratchet could have said. "Yes, all things considered."

Sunstreaker didn't say a word. Instead, he came over, and embraced Shadowrunner in a tight hug, and Sideswipe couldn't help but grin. Though they were the Twins knew they had an understanding of each other that their sisters would never be able to approach, there was no denying that Sunstreaker shared an odd sort of bond with Shadowrunner – the same sort of bond that Sideswipe shared with Nightraid.

And – to quote Carly – speaking of the devil…

"'Runner!" Nightraid practically burst through the Med Bay doors, Jazz and Prowl just behind her. Sideswipe had the wisdom to step aside before Nightraid dashed over to Shadowrunner, and had the supreme pleasure of seeing his baby sister try to wriggle her way between Sunstreaker and Shadowrunner so she could give her sister a proper embrace.

"Ow! Watch out!" Shadowrunner exclaimed from somewhere under the pile of metallic limbs. "I'm not exactly complete yet!"

"You two had better step away from her right now," Ratchet stated, his voice deceptively mild, "before I decide to take your arms apart _without_ the benefit of cutting your sensory cables. And that includes you, 'Raid."

"Sorry," Nightraid apologized, her voice halfway between a giggle and a sob. She stepped back, automatically seeking Prowl, who put an arm around her shoulders, keeping her close.

"Hey there sweetheart," Jazz said, smiling softly as he came up to Shadowrunner's berth. "Ratchet taking care of you okay?"

Ratchet snorted, but didn't say anything as Shadowrunner responded: "Of course he is. I'm alive, am I not?"

"Well, I was worried, y'know? He might've decided it might be better to weld you to your berth, or-"

"Keep talking, and I'm going to have to kick you out, Jazz."

Jazz laughed apologetically, giving Ratchet a small, sheepish smile, but it was brief, and he focused on Shadowrunner once again, holding her hand tightly in his.

"…now, Prowl."

It was only then that Sideswipe heard Nightraid's voice, the undercurrent of urgency in it clear despite the volume being low. She was talking to Prowl, who was holding both her hands in his – a gesture of reassurance.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his own voice quiet.

Nightraid nodded. "Yes."

"All right. But your brothers and Jazz…"

"'Swipe?"

Sideswipe turned to Shadowrunner, who was giving him a quizzical look. He grinned as he approached, sitting at the foot of her berth. He nodded at where her internals were still not quite covered up. "What happened to you, anyway?"

She shrugged slightly, and Sideswipe noticed how her head turned away from him just a little bit. "I got caught."

Sunstreaker stared at her incredulously. "_You_ got caught?"

Her glare back at him came quick. "We didn't expect Undercurrent to be there."

"Undercurrent?" Sideswipe asked. "Who's that?"

"A 'Con femme who worked under Shockwave as a spy in Cybertron. We didn't know she was here."

"'Runner?"

Sideswipe turned to look at Nightraid, who was walking over to them, Prowl behind her with his hands on her shoulders, as if to steady her. There was something in Nightraid's optics that troubled him, and almost immediately he stood up, a little tense.

Nightraid glanced over her shoulder at Prowl, who nodded once, as if telling her it was all right, and then she looked at Shadowrunner straight in the optics. "'Runner," she began softly, "I remember what happened, the time Matchlock was killed." She paused. "I remember everything."

* * *

"I remember everything." 

Ratchet tilted his head at Nightraid, frowning slightly. Out of the corner of his optics he noticed Shadowrunner jerk, and he sensed something was wrong, but he didn't say anything. He held his silence, and opted to watch the whole thing play out.

"Whaddya mean, you forgot?" Sideswipe asked, optics narrowing.

Nightraid didn't even look at her brother. Her gaze was fixed on Shadowrunner, whose optics had dulled out into a dark blue. "You _made_ me forget. You locked up the memory-file so I wouldn't be able to access it."

Ratchet's frown deepened at that. Since Cybertronians were capable of accessing the memories of their own kind in ways that other species couldn't, that left a lot of room for Cybertronians to mess around with those same memories. As an aspiring medic at the Academy, he had spent a great deal of time learning about memory banks and access to the files contained therein. As a general rule, once a Cybertronian was deactivated, those close to the Cybertronian in question were free to access the memory-files, but the same could not be said for a Cybertronian who was still alive. Accessing another Cybertronian's memory banks for reasons other than medical, mechanical or military while they were still alive was a severe breach in ethics, not to mention trust. One just _didn't_ go around messing with another Cybertronian's memories. And he knew Shadowrunner; she wouldn't have done something like that, not to her own sister.

Could she?

Shadowrunner did not respond. She merely stared at the floor next to her berth, unwilling to look at all of them. At length, she asked: "You found the file in my memory banks, didn't you?"

Nightraid nodded. "Yeah."

"You weren't supposed to. You were only supposed to get the file with the blueprints, and that was that."

"But why did you keep it from me?!"

Shadowrunner lifted her gaze, and her optics were dark blue: the color of spark-deep sadness. "Because I didn't want you to remember what I was when it happened."

"Hold on," Sunstreaker cut in. "What the Pit is going on here? What are you two talking about?"

Nightraid opened her mouth to respond, but Prowl cut her off with a shake of his head. "I'll tell it," he murmured, and proceeded to describe what he had seen in the memory-file that Nightraid had retrieved from Shadowrunner's memory banks. And though he told it without any emotional inflection in his voice, the way he described what he had seen was more than enough for Ratchet to conjure up the images in his own processors.

He could see it, the way that Shadowrunner had torn through those drones, and it gave him a cold feeling in his tanks. It was too brutal, too violent, too much like…

Ratchet didn't dare continue down that line of thought.

Silence hung thick in the Med Bay. Instead, the Twins were looking at Shadowrunner, stunned by this revelation, while Nightraid was leaning against Prowl, as if for support. Jazz, too, was staring at Shadowrunner, and though Ratchet couldn't see past his visor, he could tell from the way he was holding himself that he was just as surprised.

But Shadowrunner wasn't looking at them. Instead, she was gazing at her foot, not saying a word. She wasn't even looking at Jazz.

In the end, he chose to break the silence. He stepped closer, keeping his expression as neutral as possible, and asked the question that weighed on all their minds: "Why, 'Runner?"

Shadowrunner looked up at him, and he felt his tanks suddenly get very heavy. "Because, for that brief moment in time, I knew what it felt like to be a Decepticon. And it felt _good._"

She looked away again. "When I saw those drones kill Matchlock, I felt something inside me snap. I leaped into the fight, not caring about how I killed them. I just did. It felt good to feel the crunch of metal in my hands, to hear the little squeaks they made when they went."

She looked up at Nightraid. "Don't you remember? I was _smiling_ when it was all over. Almost as instantly as it was over, I regretted you seeing it. I didn't want you to think of me that way, to think of me as someone who could do something only a Decepticon could do. So I locked that memory away."

Nightraid shook her head hard. "But you didn't have to. I wouldn't have held it against-"

"Would you, really? If I let you retain that memory, would you have been able to look at me in the optics and tell me you didn't think, even for a moment, that you weren't seeing your sister, but a 'Con?"

Nightraid flinched at the hardness in Shadowrunner's voice, at the way her optics flashed in anger. "But-"

"That's enough."

Ratchet glanced at Sunstreaker, who stood up from where he had been leaning against the wall. He was standing straighter now, and was looking at all of them. "I think the rest of you ought to go. I need to talk to 'Runner – alone."

"Wh-what?" Nightraid sputtered. "But I-"

"Especially you, 'Raid."

"But-"

"Why should we leave?" Jazz demanded, in a tone of voice Ratchet had rarely ever heard Jazz use – though that was likely because this was the _first _time it happened. It sounded almost as if Jazz was pulling rank over Sunstreaker.

The yellow Countach gave the black-and-white Porsche an even look – one that, surprisingly, had none of his usual belligerence, especially given Jazz's tone. "This is important, okay? But I need to talk to 'Runner alone. I don't need the rest of you to overhear this. This is just between her and me." He looked at Ratchet. "Please?"

Ratchet returned Sunstreaker's gaze, one optic ridge raised slightly. He was a bit surprised by the "please" that had accompanied that request: usually Sunstreaker just did as he wanted. But apparently, the yellow Chrysanthemum of Chaos recognized the fact that they were currently in _Ratchet's_ Med Bay and that if anything were to happen here, it was going to be done only under his approval.

And in this instance, Ratchet knew precisely what Sunstreaker wanted to do: a chance to talk to Shadowrunner alone, because he, along with Ratchet himself, realized that only Sunstreaker really had any right at all to talk to her about this.

Ratchet might have been the Autobot CMO, but he was smart enough to know when the cure was not within his power to administer, but in someone else's. So he nodded his assent. "Alright everyone, let's go."

Jazz opened his mouth to protest, but Ratchet gave him a look. He already knew what Jazz was going to say, and he warned the Porsche not to say it. He knew this was painful for Jazz: having all this information dropped on his head, and unable to sort it out with Shadowrunner, who had just revealed a side of herself that none of them knew. Ratchet himself was surprised, but he could always wait to talk to her later.

And if he could wait, so could Jazz.

"Let's go to my office." He stepped aside, and gestured for the others to move into his office, leaving Sunstreaker and Shadowrunner alone to talk – and hopefully, to sort all of this out.

* * *

Sunstreaker didn't move, didn't say a word while the others left him with his sister in the Med Bay. Even when he heard the door hiss closed behind him, he didn't say a word immediately. 

At last, he said: "It's not so bad, y'know. The way you feel."

Shadowrunner shook her head, not looking at him. "How is it not bad?" she asked softly. "I shouldn't take joy in killing that way. That's…wrong. That comes entirely too close to being a Decepticon."

"Yeah, but… Let's just say I sort of know where you're coming from."

She did look at him then. "You losing it because 'Raid and I came back with the Seekers on our afts-"

"Isn't all that different," Sunstreaker cut in. "'Runner, there's nothing abnormal about the fact that you had fun tearing up those drones. They killed Matchlock, for Primus' sake. If I was there I'd've done the same thing. 'Sides would've done the same thing."

"But you're _not_ supposed to have fun while doing it."

Sunstreaker exhaled loudly. "And is there anything wrong with getting a kick from killing something that killed your creator?" he drawled.

Shadowrunner's eyes flashed, and he smiled inwardly. Temper from her was a good thing.

"If I take pleasure in killing, that makes me no better than a Decepticon," she snarled. "If I don't keep that tendency in check, then I could easily-" She stopped there, and Sunstreaker knew what was going through her CPU – mostly because he had been there before, in his own way.

He sat down at the foot of her berth, his expression even. "Look, 'Runner, I can't say that I know what you're going through, but I think I do. I can get that way too. Let's face it: it's _fun_ crushing a 'Con's cranial unit, or pulling out their spark chambers the long way out. But you have to do it for the _right reasons._

"I'll admit, if me and 'Sides weren't on the Autobot side of things, we'd definitely be 'Cons. Galactic conquest isn't all that bad an idea. It was only because we both knew what sort of things the 'Cons did to their victims that me and 'Sides are here with the Autobots to begin with."

Shadowrunner's optics widened. "You mean to say, that if you weren't an Autobot, you'd be a _Decepticon_?"

Sunstreaker nodded, utterly comfortable in his answer. "Sure. If I didn't think Megatron was such a fragging spawn of a glitch, I'd be working for him."

"So then why…?"

"Aside from Megatron being a spawn of a glitch?" He shrugged. "At first, because 'Sides was on the Autobot side of the fence, and I wasn't about to leave him. But then now there's you and 'Raid, and there's no way in the Pit I'd abandon my family for any reason."

That was when he heard it: a soft rippling sound that he hadn't ever heard Shadowrunner make. He turned to look at her, thinking that she had started to cry – or at least, to do the Cybertronian equivalent of it – but his optics widened, because Shadowrunner wasn't crying.

She was _laughing._

When she looked at him, her optics were filled with a mirth he had never seen there before. "You know, I never imagined I'd hear _you_ say that. Somehow, it seems kind of corny, coming from you, of all mechs."

But he didn't react to that. Instead, he stood up, reached over, and hugged her hard, ignoring the pained protest she uttered when he accidentally knocked against her still-open torso.

"You laughed," he breathed in amazement. "You _laughed_!"

Shadowrunner smiled, and looked a bit surprised herself. "I suppose I did, didn't I?"

"That's it? That's all you're going to say on it? Primus, we've _never _heard you laugh and that's all you're going to say?!"

"…I've never had reason to until now."

Sunstreaker's smile widened into a grin, and he leaned over to give her a light kiss on the helm. "Well, at least I was the one who did it, and not Jazz."

"When are you _ever_ going to get over that?"

"Not for a long time yet, little sis. Sorry."

* * *

"… Jazz, if you keep on doing that, you're just going to wear a rut through my office floor." 

Jazz abruptly stopped his pacing, and looked at Ratchet, and the CMO returned his gaze coolly, evenly. The Porsche tried to think up of a witty comeback, as he always did, but when he opened his mouth he found that he couldn't process a single sound through his vocalizer.

Not for the first time, he was glad that his visor covered his optics; if it wasn't there, then he would give away too much of what he was feeling. Those feelings weren't exactly of the sort he was willing to share with anyone right now – not even Prowl.

Ratchet straightened in his chair, optics turning more sympathetic. "Look, I know you want to talk to her, but you don't know anything about what she's been through."

Jazz smirked dryly. "Oh yeah, and Sunny does?"

"He ought to," Sideswipe murmured from where he was standing, one hand on top of a dozing Nightraid's head, which in turn the femme had leaned on Prowl's shoulder.

Jazz made an impatient gesture. "Look, Sides, I ain't tryin' to say nasty things 'bout your brother, but I can't help thinkin' his is a different case from 'Runner's."

"Not when she starts saying she thinks she's a 'Con for what she did," Sideswipe muttered. He looked straight at Jazz. "If anyone understands that sentiment the best, it'd be Sunny. And since he understands it so well, he's the only one who can talk her out of believing it."

"He's right," Ratchet stated. "The only one who's going to be of any use to her right now is Sunstreaker. She doesn't need 'Raid's anger, nor does she need your brand of sympathy."

"But I just-"

Ratchet shook his head. "It's not you she needs right now, Jazz."

And that, Jazz thought bitterly, was what hurt the most. That he couldn't be what she needed, especially in _this_ situation. "I'm gettin' outta here," he muttered, and turned to exit the office, but he didn't get more than five steps down the hallway before he stopped, and leaned against the wall, his visors going dull as he shut off his optics briefly.

Primus, he felt so _helpless. _For all that Prowl and even Prime said it wasn't his fault, he couldn't help but feel like it was. If he hadn't thought to send the femmes on this mission, if he hadn't thought that they wouldn't get in trouble, if he'd sent the Twins along, just make sure everything was all right… So many "what-ifs," and all of them far too late.

And what had they gotten out of it? Sure, they got the plans for that weapon Megatron was building, but what had they had to pay in exchange? The price almost seemed too high now.

He went where his feet took him, not really thinking about his destination, but somehow, he ended up in front of the femmes' quarters. He tried the door, found it wasn't locked, and he stepped inside. The mess he had managed to glimpse over Prowl's shoulder was no longer there, though there were still small shards of glass and metal scattered here and there.

One of the consoles had a file loaded, and out of curiosity, he played it. As it turned out, it was the memory-file that Nightraid and Prowl had mentioned, and as he watched it, Jazz felt the ache in his spark deepen. Now, more than ever, he wanted to go into the Med-Bay, talk to Shadowrunner, and tell her that the need to avenge her creator's death did not make her a 'Con, even if she carried it out in so brutal a manner. And even if such brutality was more common in 'Cons than in 'Bots, at least she knew better than to

Pit, he thought, he wanted to tell her that if someone ever took her away from him like that, _he_ would likely go off the deep end as well.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Jazz looked up, and smiled wearily. "Can't say I'm gonna do much with a penny, 'Jack, but thanks for the offer."

He watched Wheeljack's shadow widen as he stepped into the room. "She okay yet?"

"Not yet," Jazz replied, and he couldn't help the weariness that came through in his voice. "She's havin'…problems."

Wheeljack nodded. "I know. Ratchet clued me in already." He settled down next to Jazz. "You remember what Hound said once? He said that there was something up with 'Runner, kinda like Blue."

Jazz nodded. He remembered that, of course, but he didn't think it would matter so much. Sure, Bluestreak had issues, but that had never stopped him from being likeable, or from making friends. It was the same with Shadowrunner: he knew there was something else underneath her veneer of reserve, and he wanted to find out – both because he was curious, and also because he had been attracted to her. But what he found out was not exactly what he had been expecting.

"Does it change everything?"

Jazz snapped his head up at Wheeljack. "What?"

The Lancia was eyeing him with a steady gaze, and for the first time, Jazz saw there was no warmth in them. "I asked if this changes everything. Between you and 'Runner, I mean."

Jazz knew, almost immediately, that he didn't know how to respond to that. On one hand, he knew it would change something between him and Shadowrunner; knowledge like this always did. But at the same time, even knowing what he did, it changed nothing of what he felt for her.

"Jazz?"

Jazz glanced away, looked at his hands. "Yes, and no." He flexed his hands. "I mean, I know it's not gonna be _completely_ the same, not after knowin' what we know, but at the same time… I still feel for her the same way I always have."

"Good." Wheeljack stood up then, and headed towards the door. "That's all I wanted to hear."

Wheeljack stood up then, and headed towards the door. Jazz followed him with his gaze, surprised. "I don't get it."

Wheeljack paused in the door, and once more there was warmth in his optics – and relief. "I just wanted to know that you wouldn't abandon her, not when she needs you the most. I'm glad to know you won't." And with that, he turned, and left, his shadow sliding out of the room along with him.

* * *

Optimus Prime looked away from the computer screen in front of him, optics turning up to the ceiling as if the words he was looking for were to be found there. At length, he started moving again, his fingers flying across the keyboard, whose keys consisted of the symbols for the Cybertronian language. 

… _Your suspicions about Shadowrunner were correct. Ratchet has informed me of the nature of that particular memory-file, along with what she did to Nightraid. Your assumptions about the circumstances surrounding Matchlock's death were true: Shockwave's drones did indeed kill him, and it was Shadowrunner who eliminated those drones in a momentary lapse of her programming. As for the why of it…we haven't been able to determine that as of yet, since I have not spoken to either of the sisters._

It was something that Optimus had long found troubling about the Twins, and now about their sisters. There was something in their programming that Matchlock had built in, but apparently had not told anyone else about. There was a level of violence that neither he nor Elita-1 had expected, but it was there. It also seemed to be more prominent in the elder siblings: in this case, Sunstreaker and Shadowrunner.

There was something going on here, something that neither he nor Elita knew about. He knew that Matchlock loved peace as much as the next Autobot, but there seemed to be something…well, _unusual_ about that violent aspect present in Sunstreaker and Shadowrunner's programming – something that was not present in Sideswipe and Nightraid. In fact, it almost seemed as if Sideswipe and Nightraid, for all their quirks, had been programmed as counterbalances to their older siblings.

Was there something that Matchlock was trying to get to them? Something he wanted to give, but could not – at least, not out in the open?

_I have yet to talk to Ratchet and Wheeljack about this, since they were the ones who knew Matchlock best. I would appreciate it if you could send me whatever information you have managed to collect at your end. You and I both know that Shockwave would have considered Matchlock a valuable resource, and would have taken him captive. But to kill him outright… That could only mean Matchlock meant one of two things: he was disposable, or was in possession of something that Shockwave found too dangerous to leave alone._

Optimus paused, thinking on that. When the Civil War was at its height, there were rumors going around that Matchlock had developed a program of sorts, something that would spare Autobot lives while wreaking as much havoc on the Decepticons as possible. There was no word about what this program was supposed to do, but in any case, Matchlock had it, and was working on completing it so that he could hand it over to the Autobot Army as quickly as possible.

And now that he was dead…

He continued typing, finishing up his letter:

_You, Ultra Magnus, and I both knew that Matchlock was up to something before he died. We need to find out what it was. Try to find out as much as you can on your end, and I will do what I can on mine. If it is what we think it is, then we might be able to bring this war to a swifter conclusion than we initially thought. _

_And I pray to Primus that is the case, because there are nights when I miss you more than I can bear._

_Yours,_

_O._

And with that, Optimus input a few commands, and the message was flying off into the ether and into space, towards another computer elsewhere, in the depths of space somewhere far, far away.


End file.
